


finding hope by the water

by softresurrection



Series: hello there, new friend [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beaches, F/M, Fluff, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Meet-Cute, Mild Hurt/Comfort, i think jon might be a bit ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 05:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18423897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softresurrection/pseuds/softresurrection
Summary: So, there she was. A single girl, reading a book alone on a beach, on a Saturday afternoon in Dorne.





	finding hope by the water

**Author's Note:**

> nothing belongs to me etc.  
> not read over by anyone else, sorry if there’s any glaring grammar mistakes :)

The water swayed back and forth, washing forward and kissing the edge of the beach before retreating once more. It was almost hypnotic in its movements as Sansa focused on the push and pull of the blue tide. 

Or, it would have been hypnotic, had her view been constant instead of broken into glances as people walked past her. 

The music playing in her ears was loud and quiet at the same time. Loud in volume and quiet in tone, tranquil in the rhythm but passionate with the words. It was the only song on her phone that Sansa had deemed worthy of the mood she was in. 

She reached for the book she had put to her side when she’d splayed out on her beach towel to let her back tan evenly. As she hoisted herself up a bit to be able to lean on her elbows and read in comfort, she heard the voices of a few men walking past her. 

Had it been possible to make herself smaller, she would have. As it was, it was her first time in a bikini since her body had been the sort that merited positive feelings. 

Sansa had never spared much thought to how random people on the beach looked, and would never have judged another woman for something like scars adorning her body. 

Yet, every time someone looked at her, regardless of whether it was an appreciative or disdainful look, she felt the need to make herself smaller, less noticeable. 

Sansa had never been very loud, or very boisterous, but she had never made herself smaller to fit the ideas of anyone else on what she should be. The accident had changed that. 

When it had happened, Sansa had been bent down, tying her shoelaces. It had felt like a split second, which it probably was, but the windshield had broken and the glass had cut her whole back open, or at least it had felt like it. 

The raised lines crisscrossing over her spine and near her lower back were, if nothing else, easy to cover up. So she had, at least she had until she had found her current therapist. 

Shae had encouraged her to become comfortable with her body once again. Slowly, Sansa had. Or, she was. It was a process. 

That was why she found herself at the beach, alone, on a Saturday afternoon. It was best to rip the proverbial bandaid off alone, she had thought. 

And yet, as the group of men walked past and a few of them turned to look at her, Sansa had the uncontrollable urge to hide her face. She tried to focus on the novel she was reading but her attention was roused by a dogwhistle. 

She looked up instantly and her eyes went to the man who had obviously made the sound, as he was walking backwards looking at her while his friends laughed. He had dark hair cropped short to his face and a lecherous sort of smile. 

Her gaze went back down to the page as she read and reread the same string of words multiple times while her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. It wasn’t as if she had never been catcalled before, but it was the first time at the beach, with her scars showing. 

Even the demeaning context it was in couldn’t stop a smile from threatening to overtake her face as she registered that okay, maybe Shae and her family and Margaery were all right. Maybe it wasn’t all that hideous after all. 

Suddenly, she felt a cool shade on her back, caused by someone blocking the sun. Sansa turned a bit to make sure of it, and then sat up, removing one of her headphones as she held a hand to her forehead, trying to block the light enough to register what the person in front of her looked like. 

The man in front of her crouched down, making it easier for her to see him. He was of the guys from the group that had just passed, Sansa realised. 

Not the one who had whistled, though. He had navy blue trunks and an open white linen shirt on. His black hair was pulled back into a man bun and he was apologetically smiling. 

She quirked her lips up in return, settling on an uncertain raise of her eyebrows as the man didn’t say anything. 

That prompted him into speaking. “Sorry. Hi. I think you heard my friend sort of-“ He raised a hand up to run through his hair before realising he had it in a bun. “Uh, he whistled at you? I just wanted to say sorry. He isn’t usually like that. Although, I suppose, I don’t know him well enough to know what he’s actually like. But, um, sorry. For the whistling. He’s kind of drunk on margaritas.”

Sansa couldn’t keep herself from smiling at the man as he rambled. He was obviously uncomfortable but he had still come to apologise. His sheepish expression transformed into an actual smile in return, albeit a small one. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. You’re not the one whistling at random women on the beach, are you now?” Sansa grinned. 

He grimaced, obviously hating even the idea. “No, but I’m sorry about him. He just does this at everyone he thinks is pretty when he’s drunk.” He paused. Then his eyes widened. “Not that, I mean, not that you’re not actually pretty.” He trailed off awkwardly. “I’m sure he’d still find you pretty if he was sober.”

She almost giggled. He was far too handsome to be this anxious about talking to a woman. “Are you sure? I don’t know how I’d go on if he didn’t.” She teased. 

His awkward stance slightly changed into a more relaxed one. His smile took on a more sure quality. “Oh, I’m sure. He’s an ass but he isn’t stupid.”

Sansa laughed before reaching out her hand. “Sansa. And I think your friends are waiting for you.” She gestured with her eyes to where the group was standing, barely pretending not to be looking right at them. 

He looked at her hand for a second before shaking it. “I’m Jon. And they’re just being assholes, they’ll go away in a minute.” He grinned at her. 

Sansa found herself looking into his eyes. They were grey, a slightly odd gray, maybe violet in a specific light. And very warm. Almost as warm as his hand, which she realised she was still holding. 

She broke the handshake, clearing her throat before speaking again. “Do you wanna sit with me for a while? I brought food and I’m hungry now.”

Jon shrugged, still smiling a bit. “Of course. If you have enough, that is.”

“Who offered you the food? I just wanted company.” She glanced at him quizzically, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. 

He looked thrown and unsure for a total of a second before realising. “That’s a bit rude, don’t you think. Who knows when I ate last?” 

His grin was lost on her as she was turned around, getting out the sandwiches and juice from her beach bag. She still heard the joking tone of his voice. “Oh, yeah? Maybe you should’ve planned on something too, then.”

When she turned back, he was sitting next to her, holding her book. “Who knows? Maybe I planned on meeting you?” 

He was looking at her book as he spoke, but Sansa’s heart fluttered slightly in her chest. His casual flirting was just a bit much for her to take. 

She laughed in a deadpan, “Well, that’ll teach you to depend on strangers, won’t it?” Even as she spoke, she handed him a sandwich. 

He looked at her, smiling warmly. “It’s a valuable lesson, Sansa. Thank you for teaching it to me.”

She laughed, unwrapping her own food. It was a simple grilled cheese with some ham and sun dried tomatoes in it. He knocked his shoulder against hers as he took the first bite. 

“Oh, this is good. Gourmet cheese toastie.” He grinned as he chewed, his eyes lit up. 

“Cheese toastie? Are you secretly ten?” Sansa goaded him as she ate. It actually was a pretty nice sandwich, to be fair to herself. 

He raised his eyebrows almost to his forehead. “Am I ten? It’s not my fault you’re influenced by the Southerners.” 

Sansa laughed, shoving him with her shoulder. “Says the man sitting at a beach in Dorne.” 

He shoved her back. “Hey, it’s not my fault Dorne has state funded tuition.”

She took a bite of her sandwich, chewing before she spoke. “You’re northern, though, right?” 

“Yeah, I miss home a lot. What about you? You speak Southern but sound Northern.” Jon looked at her while he spoke, fingers thumbing the pages of her book. 

Her immediate instinct was to protect it by taking it out of his hands but she swallowed it down and let him keep touching it. It wasn’t as if it was in pristine shape already. She’d read it every time she felt even slightly askew ever since the accident. It was the last gift her father had gotten her. 

She quickly realised she had gotten distracted and not answered his question. “As Northern as can be. Lived in Wintertown till I was nineteen.”

He quirked an eyebrow, prompting her to elaborate as he took his last bite, finishing the sandwich. 

“I’m here for uni too. And other things as well, I suppose. Dorne is as far away from home as it gets.” Sansa found herself speaking openly. 

“I hate that about it but I get the feeling that’s your attraction to the place.” He genuinely looked inquisitive. 

Sansa took a moment to think on what was appropriate to divulge to a near stranger- even if he didn’t feel like it. “One of them. Lots of people, none I know. It helps with recovering from certain things, you know?”

Jon’s gaze involuntarily flickered to her backside for a split second before it came back to her eyes, probably drawing a conclusion. It did not matter how short, the glance had made Sansa realise what she must look like to him. 

Just a scarred, silly girl, alone on a beach in a country on the other side of the continent from her home because she just had to run away. 

Her face must have closed off to the point where Jon noticed, although she was usually very good at keeping in control of her expressions. 

Jon’s hand hesitantly found hers, first just the fingers and then his palm laid fully on top of her hand. She turned her head to look at him. 

His eyes were open. Honest. It was clear that he was not drawing any conclusions about her. Sansa found herself still wanting to withdraw into her shell, but Shae’s words echoed through her head. 

If she didn’t put herself out there, she’d never know what she was missing. 

She took a deep breath. “Sorry. I- it’s just. It’s all a bit hard.”

Jon’s expression got impossibly more soft. “You don’t need to tell me. And I’m sorry for looking.”

A laugh drew out of her. “I’m wearing a bikini, Jon. It’s okay if you see my back.”

He hesitantly smiled, just the corners of his mouth stretching. “Still. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. You probably get creeps staring at you some type of way constantly.”

“They do. It’s a great way of teaching you who’s a creep and who isn’t. It’s genuinely okay.” Sansa smiled at him, letting her face be open for once. 

Jon mirrored her expression. “That’s good.” He paused, exhaling. “Thank god, I thought I fucked it up before I even properly asked you out.” 

Sansa’s tongue suddenly felt very big in her mouth and her throat very dry. He wanted to ask her out. Jon wanted to go out with her. Even though he knew she was a bit damaged. 

Desperately trying to maintain some semblance of calm, she spoke lightly. “Who says you didn’t?”

Jon, instead of looking thrown for even a second, just laughed. “You’re still holding my hand, Sansa. I think I have a shot.”

Her face immediately flushed as she looked down to see if he was right, as if she wasn’t even in her body anymore. There it was. His hand on top of hers, fingers intertwined. 

It looked.. weirdly right. As if they complemented each other perfectly. Despite his teasing tone, he made no effort to unentangle their fingers. He held on tighter, if anything. 

“Okay, you might still have a shot.” Her smile felt like it was going to break her face and Jon’s did too. She had a feeling he didn’t smile like that too often. 

He reached forward with his other hand to pick up the juice box. “Can we share?” He made exaggerated puppy dog eyes at her. “Since we’re going out and everything now.”

Rolling her eyes, she made the have-at-it gesture. He punctured the hole at the top with the straw and took a sip before speaking. “It’s really your fault. You should’ve brought two.”

“Of course. How couldn’t I have known we’d end up like this?” Sansa’s smile betrayed her sarcastic tone. 

Jon took another sip, offering her the carton. She took it from him, sipping at the refreshing mango flavoured juice. 

“I woke up this morning knowing I was gonna meet you.” He said it so surely that Sansa turned her head to look at him properly, unsure if he actually meant it. Her brows furrowed together. 

He caught her looking and grinned, then shook his head. “Sadly, it was all Theon’s doing this time. But how about I wake up tomorrow actually knowing I’m gonna meet you?”

**Author's Note:**

> i sorta like this meet cute type series they’re not that hard to write and i enjoy them so... there’s that  
> also, i know it’s kinda unrealistic to meet someone and then decide to go out in literally two minutes flat but that’s actually how me and my girlfriend got together, and we’ve been together for about two years now :)


End file.
